by Lauren North
Village Girlies’ Group Chat
Wednesday 28 October, 15.47
Me: Strange question, but does anyone remember seeing anything odd going on last Wednesday evening? @BevPritchett you said you saw Dean’s car driving into the village. What time was that? @TracyCampbell did you notice anything while you were walking the dog?
Kat Morris: Everything OK Anna? Is this about Harrie?
Gina Walker: Have I missed something? What’s up?
Me: I think something happened to Harrie the night I was stuck on the road, but she won’t tell me anything.
Gina Walker: Clarissa did mention that Harrie and Elise have been acting weird this week. What do you think happened?
Tracy Campbell: I didn’t see anything. Sorry!
Bev Pritchett: Sorry @AnnaJames I don’t think it was Dean’s car I saw. I was only looking out the window for a minute. It could’ve been any blue car. Do you want Mike to have a chat with Harrie tomorrow?
Me: @BevPritchett thanks but I don’t think it will do any good. So no one saw anything at all that night?
Village Girlies’ Secret Group Chat
Wednesday 28 October, 15.59
Sandra Briggs: What are those messages about? Anyone else find them a bit accusing?
Bev Pritchett: No idea!! Weird, right?!
Kat Morris: Think Anna is just worried about Harrie!
Tracy Campbell: I get that @KatMorris, but not sure what she thinks we might know. If any of us saw anything strange that night, especially something involving Harrie, then we’d have mentioned it.
Kat Morris: I know, but you can’t blame Anna for trying. She’s worried.
Tracy Campbell: She’s always worried about something! @SandraBriggs remember when it snowed that time and Anna was having a fit on the message group about getting out of the house? Jack ended up clearing her path.
Sandra Briggs: YEP! As if there is anything to worry about living here!
CHAPTER 39
The night of the crash, 8.19–8.31 p.m.
Harrie
‘Don’t hurt me.’ The words fly from Harrie’s mouth as she pushes herself across the floor, away from the murderer who grabbed her, away from the blood and away from the body lying motionless. When she’s by the table once more, she stands, instinctively holding her forearms up to protect her face.
‘Calm down,’ the man says, rubbing at the bite Harrie gave him. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ There’s a strange humour in his tone as though Harrie’s assumption is ridiculous. It’s the same tone her mum uses when Molly is crying over something silly. Calming but also amused.
Harrie drops her arms and lifts her eyes to the man as he steps back to the door. He turns the key before slipping it into his pocket. She’s trapped.
Silence rings in her ears.
‘Elise? Is that you?’
Harrie turns to the voice and for the first time she sees the other person in the room and the source of the scream.
It’s Kat.
Relief sweeps through Harrie so fast that she feels dizzy. Kat won’t let anything happen to her.
‘He killed him,’ Harrie says, too scared to correct Kat’s mistake. Harrie means it as a warning, she means to shout it, to tell Kat to run away and get help, but the voice that comes out is little and scared. Suddenly she’s aware of the blood soaking through her trousers. Her eyes fill with tears. She wants to be home with her mum, Elise and Molly.
The man laughs. A deep bellow of a noise. ‘He’s not dead. He’s drunk. He’ll be fine in an hour or so. It’s only a nosebleed.’
Harrie’s eyes fall back to the body on the kitchen floor. He’s not moving, and there is still a lot of blood, but the other man is right. It’s coming from his nose. Harrie has had plenty of nosebleeds and none of them have killed her.
The man turns to Kat and points a thumb at Harrie. ‘You know this girl?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s Elise – Ben’s friend. One of Anna and Rob’s twins,’ Kat answers, her gaze never leaving Harrie’s. Kat’s eyes are wide. Harrie can see the whites surrounding the pupils. Her mascara is smudged, so is her lipstick. She looks as scared as Harrie feels. ‘What are you doing here so late? Does your mum know you’re out?’
She shakes her head. ‘No.’ The single word is a croak. Her throat hurts. Her vision blurs. ‘She’s gone to collect Elise from gymnastics,’ Harrie blurts. A tremor takes hold. She’s shaking all over like she’s cold, freezing, when she’s not. What’s going to happen now? Can Kat protect her from this man?
‘To collect Elise?’ Kat’s eyes narrow as she stares at Harrie with a why-did-you-lie? frown. ‘Harrie?’
She nods and then the man steps closer and Harrie feels herself shrink down. ‘Why don’t you take a seat.’ He pulls out a chair and, taking her by the shoulder, he pushes her down.
The relief at seeing Kat morphs back into fear. Kat should’ve called the police by now, but she hasn’t.
Interview with Anthony Campbell, head of Barton St Martin Parish Council, Chief Financial Officer for Stockton’s Builders and Contractors
Interview conducted by Melissa Hart, The Daily Gazette, 3 November
MH: Mr Campbell, Melissa Hart from The Daily Gazette. Have you got time for a few questions, please?
Anthony: I do, yes, although you should know that some people in my village have mentioned that you’re harassing them. I’ve told them that’s not the case. You’re just trying to get answers, which is what we all want, isn’t it?
MH: Yes it is. Thank you. Is it your village?
Anthony: I suppose my answer to that is that it’s perhaps more my village than it is yours, but what I meant is that as head of the Parish Council, people bring their complaints to me, but I’m on your side. If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. We all want the same thing.
MH: And what is that?
Anthony: To understand what happened on Halloween night and the following morning. And let me tell you something – there is no one more surprised about what happened than me. I’m sure we’re all taking a long hard look at ourselves right now. This happened right under our noses. Someone must have seen this coming. Someone must have been able to prevent this tragedy. I guess what I’m trying to say is that maybe we’re not the close-knit community I thought we were.
MH: And you knew the victims?
Anthony: Of course I did. We all did.
MH: Where was Dean Stockton last week?
Anthony: What does that have to do with anything?
MH: I’m trying to get a clear picture of the events that happened before two people were killed.
Anthony: Murdered.
MH: I’m sorry?
Anthony: Two people weren’t killed. It wasn’t an accident. It was murder – plain and simple. I really must get going now. And in answer to your question, I don’t know. I’m as much in the dark about all this as everyone.
MH: I find that hard to believe, Mr Campbell. A man of your stature in the community. Working alongside Dean Stockton in his business and on the Parish Council, and you knew nothing?
Anthony: Believe what you want, it’s the truth.
CHAPTER 40
Thursday, two days until Halloween
Anna
‘Come on, Harrie, time to get up.’ My tone is light, almost sing-song cheery. I’m trying to start the day on a fresh note, trying to forget her outburst yesterday, the ‘as if you care’ comment flung at me. She didn’t say a word on the drive to and from gymnastics, preferring to sit in the back with Molly than up front with me.
I draw back the curtains, allowing the grey morning light to fill the bedroom. Elise’s bed is already empty. I can hear her in the bathroom brushing her teeth.
‘You need to get ready for school,’ I say when Harrie still doesn’t move. I feel the frustration prickle inside me. So much for a fresh note, a new day. It’s not even eight a.m. and I’m frayed, nerves jittery.
‘I’m not going,’ she replies, her voice muf
fled under the covers.
‘What do you mean? Of course you’re going.’ I laugh because even after the week we’ve had, it’s still so un-Harrie-like.
‘I’m not. And you can’t make me.’
‘Of course I can make you.’ No laughter now. Sparks of yesterday’s anger ignite inside me. I step towards the bed and yank off the covers. ‘You live under this roof and you will obey the rules.’ I hate the tone of my voice, the words I’m using. I sound like a mother I don’t want to be – my own – and yet I’m so angry too. Angry at Harrie for changing and not telling me why, and angry at myself that no matter what I do, I can’t get through to her.
Harrie sighs and says something I don’t catch.
‘Sorry?’
‘I SAID,’ she shouts, leaping up and stepping towards me so she’s only inches away from my face. Our eyes meet and I see a wildness I don’t recognize. ‘FUCK OFF!’
I gasp, too stunned to reply as the swear word hangs between us. Harrie has never sworn before. I don’t even let the girls say ‘damn it’ like their friends do. Then the shock of her words slips away and all that’s left is the hate in her voice. I back away from her bed and stand in the doorway. Lost. Infuriated.
The silence drags out between us. Heat burns through my body. But there’s worry there too, water and oil, neither mixing but both present.
‘I hate you,’ she says, throwing the words at me like she really means it. They hit like a punch and suddenly the rage is no longer a spark but a lit flare – burning and intense.
‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that.’ I spin around, pulling open the wardrobe door before grabbing her uniform and throwing it at her feet. I step closer, jabbing my finger at the clothes. ‘Get dressed now,’ I say, teeth gritted.
We stand like that for a second, neither of us sure where this fight will go next.
Then I see the tears welling in Harrie’s eyes, the tremor in her bottom lip, and just like that the anger is gone, dropping to the floor with Harrie’s uniform. What the hell am I doing?
Suddenly I feel like the worst mother alive, the worst person. What kind of mother leaves their child home alone like I did? What kind of mother shouts at their child when they’re upset like this? Harrie might not be telling me everything, but her actions are shouting loud and clear and all I can do is throw her clothes, pull off her covers.
My chest, my heart, aches with emotion. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make this right.
I reach out a hand – a gesture. ‘Harrie—’
She yelps, shrinking away from me as though I’ve hit her.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, forcing myself to step back, to give her space, when all I want to do is pick her up and cradle her in my arms like she’s a baby again. ‘I’ve got this all wrong, haven’t I? If you want to stay home with me today, that’s OK. I think you should.’
Harrie’s eyes drop, her shoulders too, and she sits back on the bed, hands rubbing at her knees like she did during the night terrors. I picture the trousers – the coppery-brown blood stains on her knees – and now I get it. She’s trying to rub it away, rub herself clean.
‘Harrie?’ I sink to the carpet, kneeling before her. ‘Please tell me what happened that night. Please. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I’m on your side. There’s nothing you can say, nothing that you could’ve done that will change the way I feel about you, but please tell me so I can help you.’
I wait. The silence loaded with anticipation. Harrie takes a shuddering breath, her eyes meeting mine. Her lips part and I hold my breath, waiting for her to speak.
There’s the creak of floorboards on the landing and I realize too late that the sounds of Elise in the bathroom have stopped. A second later I sense her in the doorway, but my gaze remains fixed, pleading with Harrie to talk, but already she’s retreating into her shell.
‘Nothing happened,’ she whispers. ‘I’m just … I keep getting in trouble at school and I don’t know why.’
‘You must be doing something—’
‘She’s not, Mum,’ Elise jumps in. ‘It wasn’t Harrie’s fault. She wasn’t fighting with Rufus. They were just playing with a rugby ball like they normally do and Mr Pritchett went out and told them to stop and that Harrie needed to go to his office. Rufus wasn’t hurt or anything.’
‘Did you see it?’
She pauses. ‘No, but Georgia did. She told me.’
This is the same Georgia who told the entire school that she’d got a pony over the summer holidays. The story went on for weeks until Georgia’s mum heard about it and put everyone straight. No pony. Not even a hamster. ‘Maybe Mr Pritchett saw Harrie from another angle or misunderstood.’
‘Ask Kat if you don’t believe me. She can ask Ben. He was standing right there.’
‘So why didn’t he ask Harrie and Rufus about it then?’
‘After lunch, Rufus wanted to go and tell Mr Pritchett that they were only playing, but Miss Holloway wouldn’t let him.’
My insides curl. I wish I’d questioned Mr Pritchett more. I wish I’d stuck up for Harrie.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?’ I ask Elise.
‘You weren’t exactly in the listening mood.’ Elise frowns and it feels like another slap.
‘Elise, it doesn’t matter what mood I’m in, I will always listen to you and help you. I promise.’ The words fall flat. Elise’s expression doesn’t change. I think of my behaviour last night. I was distracted by Harrie and the trousers, Dean, Rob. I need to do better.
‘I will speak to Mr Pritchett today. If what you say is true—’
Elise makes a noise in her throat – a ‘huh’ – as though I’m accusing her of lying.
‘I believe you. I know Harrie wouldn’t punch anyone. We’ll get this cleared up today and Mr Pritchett can apologize to Harrie. I’ll speak to him this morning at drop-off.’
‘No,’ Harrie says, picking up her uniform from where I’d thrown it. The navy of her school jumper matches perfectly with the dark circles around her eyes. ‘Don’t, Mum. Leave it. Talking to Mr Pritchett is only going to make it worse.’
‘But if you’ve done nothing wrong—’
‘Please,’ she begs, hands clasping together, tears forming in her eyes. ‘Please leave it.’
I nod, sad and scared for my daughter. What has made her this upset? ‘OK. If that’s what you want.’
‘I’ll go to school,’ Harrie says.
‘Don’t.’ I shake my head, adamant now that I want Harrie home with me. She was so close to telling me something before Elise walked in.
Harrie looks at me uncertainly for a moment and I push the point. ‘Stay in bed for a bit. I’ll get June to pop in while I take the girls to school and then you can camp out on the sofa and have a TV day.’
She nods and I see the relief in her face and feel it too.
‘Is Harrie staying home?’ Molly asks, appearing in the twins’ bedroom, hairbrush in hand.
I nod. ‘She’s not feeling well.’
Molly gives a little cough. ‘I think I’ve got it too.’ The corners of her mouth turn down and at the same time she lifts her big brown eyes up to look at me.
‘You’re fine. Come on. Harrie needs some rest and Elise needs to get dressed.’
I shoo Molly out and close the door.
We stand on the landing to brush her hair and as I strain to hear the quiet mumbles of Harrie and Elise my phone rings from my back pocket. I snatch it up, my heart soaring as I see Rob’s name on the display.
CHAPTER 41
Anna
‘Rob?’ I say, urgent and loud.
‘Daddy?’ Molly squeals, jumping up and down, hands already reaching towards the phone now pressed to my ear.
Harrie and Elise’s bedroom door flies open and they rush to my side.
There’s static on the line. A low hum. A crackle. ‘Rob? Rob?’
‘Can I speak to him?’ Molly asks.
‘Me first,’ Elise replies.
‘Anna?’ Rob’s voice is distant. He sounds miles away. Thousands of miles.
‘Rob?’
He says something but the signal is so bad that his words are lost in a stuttering of broken silence. The only thing I catch is a muffled, ‘Don’t worry.’
‘I can’t hear you.’ Static is scratching in my eardrums. I know he’ll be gone in a second and so I say the only thing I can. ‘Come home.’
The line cuts dead. He’s gone and I’ve no idea if he heard me. No idea what he was trying to say, but tears of relief roll down my cheeks because he’s not dead. He’s not left me either. Something has happened out there but he’s told me not to worry. I take a long breath and turn to the girls.
‘Daddy’s OK,’ I say, reading the fearful expressions on their faces. ‘His phone isn’t working, but he’s going to call again as soon as he can.’ It’s another lie but this time it feels like the truth.
I finish Molly’s hair in a rush and slip into the kitchen to collect my thoughts, to calm my racing heart. Rob called. He’s alive. Did he hear me tell him to come home? Hearing his voice has made me realize how much I need him. Right now. Today. This very second.
Ten minutes later, I’m still rattled and jittery, but June is on my doorstep and I push Elise and Molly out of the house, leaving Harrie in bed.
Elise is by my side and Molly a few paces ahead, skipping as she sings to herself.
‘Was Dad really OK?’ Elise asks.
I take a long breath in and out before I speak. ‘I heard his voice and he told me not to worry. If he wasn’t OK, he wouldn’t have been able to call.’ I hope it’s true. ‘Try not to worry. How’s your homework this week? Are you meeting Mr Pritchett at lunch today?’